I'm not a bitter man, but my swanky mobile that took me many weeks to learn to use is back for repair for the third time in six months, and I'm reduced to using a phone that's five years old. Not really a problem, but what I've discovered is that I've known nearly all my current friends less than five years. And even Grandma in Cyprus has had the temerity to move abroad in that time. So I'm getting texts and I'm not sure who they're from, and I'm not able to call or text other people I'd like to. Such is the modern world.
I'm not a bitter man, but I've just had to have the petrol tank on the motorbike replaced after just a year. Evidently petrol dripping onto a hot engine is not a good thing, and I could have been flame grilled. I like Burger King.
I was lucky enough last year to go and see Jude Law in Hamlet. He was a surprisingly good, and the whole play was fab....the staging was fantastic. I've no idea what the critics thought. But the main topic of conversation over the interval drinks was how big his hands are. Even now, I hold in my memory a spitting image memory of a man with gigantic hands.
I was lucky enough this weekend to go and see Kiera Knightly in the Misanthrope. She was surprisingly good - although she started off no better than a sixth form drama student, by the end she had captivated the audience with her performance. I've no idea what the critics thought. But the main topic of conversation over drinks at the interval was that her nipples were very prominent. Chapel hat pegs was the phrase used. And not just hers. Tara Fitzgeralds's too. I must quickly point out that it was the women that started this topic and the men just gazed wistfully at the floor, the ceiling, the wallpaper, and nodded as if they hadn't noticed. It must have been cold on the stage....and we were sitting in the front row.
